


for he's a jolly good fellow

by glassbones



Category: Hornblower (TV), Hornblower - C. S. Forester
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxious Horatio, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassbones/pseuds/glassbones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>..next thing he knows, Bush is having his shouder sniffled into. It seems that Horatio has every limb coiled around him, like a very distressed octopus. Absent-mindedly, William runs a hand through Horatio's curls.<br/>"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," the shoulder gets wet immediately.<br/>"Shush. It's not your fault," a pair of teary eyes stares at Bush in disbelief. "Coffee's in the kitchen."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Bush put both arms round Hornblower’s shoulders and walked with dragging feet. It did not matter that his feet dragged and his legs would not function while he had this support; Hornblower was the best man in the world and Bush could announce it by singing ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’ while lurching along the alleyway.”  
> ― C.S. Forester, Lieutenant Hornblower

"Horatio," Bush says, trying to leave the alarm out of his voice. "Horatio, please come out."

The bathroom door keeps stubbornly silent.

"Horatio, I'm _worried_ ," for fuck's sake. To hell with Hornblower and his.. quirks. Bush hates the bathroom door with such ferocity, he's ready to chew his way through.

The door lets out a rueful sniffle.

"I'm alright." H _e's alive then, the bastard_ , Bush thinks with a certain vengeance.

"Come out then, if you're alright," since becoming Horatio's flatmate, Bush had studied this wretched door thoroughly. The sniffling increases.

"I won't," the door infers. Something creaks inside. "You _dislike_ me," it is William's enormous willpower that keeps him from giving the door a solid kick. He should have listened to his mother: should have stayed in Chichester, helped his sisters, went drinking with his mates.

"You bastard," the sniffling comes to an abrupt stop. "I love you. _Wanker_ ," indignant rustling behind the door. "Come out, I'm telling you."

The door opens a bit, seemingly uncertain; a red, puffy face can be seen through the crack.

"C'mere," Bush's self-control can crush rocks. Cut diamonds. Open beer bottles. "I won't bite."

The next thing he knows, Bush is having his shouder sniffled into. It seems that Horatio has every limb coiled around him, like a very distressed octopus. Absent-mindedly, William runs a hand through Horatio's curls.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," the shoulder gets wet immediately.

"Shush. It's not your fault," a pair of teary eyes stares at Bush in disbelief. "Coffee's in the kitchen."

Instead of giving an actual answer, Horatio first looks at Bush with a very stern expression, and then kisses him on the nose. Bush laughs.

It gets them a few hours to get to the kitchen, and they're both much more cheerful by the time they manage to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but you knew this is all i need, no more or no less  
> your highness i bow to thee and to thee this i confess  
> i was lost in a forest but now i'm a believer  
> so you'd be my master and i'll be your fever  
> (villagers - the pact)

The way Bush trusts Hornblower unconditionally puzzles Bush himself. He doesn't quite know the reason: that Horatio is the smartest man Bush knows, that the way Horatio's nose wrinkles when he drinks his coffee is utterly adorable.

Whatever the case may be, William Bush loves Horatio Hornblower. Horatio loves Bush too, if a little less, in his own way (Horatio can't express strong emotions just as he can't hear anything other than noise in music).

So Bush watches Hornblower sip his coffee and wrinkle his noise. If their knees sometimes brush under the kitchen table, if Bush's hand skirts around Hornblower's thigh, neither of them says a thing. Their life goes on, and Bush is curious to watch it go by.


End file.
